You're Not Safe (Texas Rangers 3)
Howell’s chair squeaked as he leaned back in his chair. “You said Elizabeth . . . Greer’s name came up in another investigation. Who was killed?”
Bragg closed the file. “Rory Edwards. He was at Shady Grove Estates with Greer. He was hung from a tree not five miles from her place.”
“Where’s she been all this time? She vanished after the trial and her suicide attempt.”
“Working at Bonneville Vineyards since. Her aunt took her in after the accident.”
“Thirty miles west of Austin?” He shook his head. “I always figured she’s moved as far away from Austin as she could get. My wife was out there for a tour. An older woman ran the place.”
“Her aunt. She passed about six months ago.”
He pulled off his glasses and cleaned the lenses. “I’m glad someone looked after the kid. She was damn near like the walking dead when I saw her last. What’s she like these days?”
“Attractive. Hair’s not blond anymore but natural brown. She’s guarded and not fond of law enforcement.”
“She associates cops with the accident.” Howell shook his head. “Nobody should have allowed Greer behind the wheel of that car. She was fifteen and too young to be driving the back roads unsupervised.”
“You mean the trio didn’t just slip away?”
“Nope. Mother told Greer to drive Jeffrey home, but after the accident Mom put all the blame on her fifteen-year-old.”
Greer’s accident file in hand, Bragg arrived at the Rangers’ Austin office minutes after two. He’d grabbed a burger on the fly and ate it in his car on the drive across town. Once he hit the office it would be nonstop. In addition to the Edwards murder, he had a bank robbery weeks from trial, a request for evidence for a kidnapping case, and subpoena requests to write in a drug case.
He dropped Greer’s file on his desk and instead of sitting, headed straight to Winchester’s office. He found the Ranger leaning back in his chair, the phone pressed to his ear. Winchester beckoned Bragg inside. Bragg took the seat in front of the desk and sat back, balancing his hat on his finger.
“That’s right the name is Edwards. Keep your ear to the ground. Any word comes up about him, I want to know about it.” He nodded. “Good. Talk to you soon.”
“What did you find out?”
Winchester hung up. “Rory Edwards’s been busy the last decade.”
Bragg sat back. “Was it like his brother said?”
Winchester’s seat creaked as he leaned forward. “And then some. The guy’s record is as clean as it was because his brother was always intervening. And like big brother said, he stopped intervening when their mother died last year. If Rory had lived, he’d have been facing serious jail time for fraud and breaking and entering. There’s also a possession charge out there.”
“A drug addict stealing to feed his habit.”
“From all I’ve read that’s exactly what he is. No amount of help was enough to keep this guy out of trouble until last year. He landed in a state rehab program and cleaned up. By all accounts he stayed out of trouble.”
Bragg shook his head. “Can’t say I feel sorry for the guy. The world was at his feet, and he found a way to screw up his life.”
“He isn’t the first to be controlled by addiction and won’t be the last. You talk to Greer Templeton?”
The muscles circling the back of his neck tightened. “I did. She admits Edwards called her days ago but she did not return the call. She’s a hard one to read. But I know she’s holding back. The question is why.”
“I did a little reading up on her accident.”
Bragg nodded. “I did, too. She had one hell of an accident.”
“Kid screwed up. Doesn’t mean she was evil or bad, only young and stupid.”
“I know. She paid one hell of a price for seconds of carelessness.” He worried about the residual marks influencing Greer and ultimately Mitch.
“What motive would she have for killing Edwards? The accident is a matter of public record. And it sure was big headlines for a long time. And if you’re going to kill a guy, why leave the body on your property?”
“Maybe she didn’t like the idea of him digging up the past? Maybe she figured hiding the body in plain sight would deflect attention in the long run. Every time I think I’ve figured out the bad guys they throw me a new curve ball.”
His gut didn’t whisper warning about Greer but without all the facts he couldn’t make a call on her yet. “What about his cell phone records?”
“Put in the request for the warrant. We should have it by tomorrow.”
Bragg checked his phone. No word from Mitch. “What about the truck imprints? Greer Templeton has one truck I saw but she could have many, and this is Texas, home of the pickup truck.”
Winchester nodded. “Here’s hoping the tire has a distinctive trait. Also forensics pulled DNA from the cigarette butt found at the scene. When we get that back I’ll run it through CODIS.”
“Be our lucky day if the killer was in the FBI’s DNA database.”
Winchester grinned. “Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than smart.”
Luck had abandoned him years back so he wasn’t counting on her. “Right.”
“David Edwards will want an answer. He might not have liked his brother, but he’ll want this case closed so it can be forgotten.”
“Rory gets my best just like any other victim.” He straightened. “Did you hear Mitch took a job?”
“No. That’s good, correct?”
Bragg brushed a bit of dust from his cuff. “The offer came from none other than Greer Templeton.”
Winchester didn’t hide his surprise. “You’re shitting me.”
“No, I am not.”
“Hell of a coincidence.”
“Hell of a time for a coincidence.”
“They do happen. Sometimes.”
Winchester shoved out a breath. “You going to pull the plug on the job?”
He thought about Mitch gobbli
ng his meal last night and of Greer’s willingness to keep the boy even after his grilling. “No. Not for now. But as I told Greer, I will be watching.”
Jackson sat straight behind the wheel of his car, parked on the grimy side street in East Austin. “It won’t be easy to fool this woman.”
“Did you send her the package?”
“Yes. She should have gotten it yesterday.” His hands trembled a little when he thought about leaving the neatly wrapped box on her doorstep. “You are always so calm?”
“My cool head is why you keep me around.” He heard the smile in her voice.
“Is that the reason?” His anger leached out in his tone.
“Now. Now.”
The woman, Sara Wentworth, slid out of the Lexus and her designer heels clicked with each crisp step. A sleek blue blouse draped slim shoulders and was tucked into a white pencil skirt that showed off a narrow waist and hips. She carried a briefcase that was as expensive as her diamond earrings and pearl necklace. A French manicure and a neat haircut finished the look of a woman used to the finer things.
“She looks nice. Perfect.”
“Fine clothes and a smile hide so much. We both know that.”
Annoyance snapped. “You always do that.”
“Do what?” She sounded amused.
He gritted his teeth, his gaze on Sara as she moved toward the old warehouse. “Bring up the past.”
“The past never goes away. It is with us forever.”
“Some people leave the past behind.”
“Maybe. But not you. And certainly not me.”
“I want to.”
“You never will as long as I’m around.” Her laughter rumbled in his ears.
For a long moment he was silent and sullen. He hated it when she taunted him. She could be such a bitch.
“Now you are mad,” she teased.
“I am.”
“Was it something I said?” She laughed.
He would not be baited. Not today. “We have a job to do. Today. In the here and now. We can quibble about the past another time.”
“You are no fun.”